The Crystal Dollhouse Infestation
by Kyrene once Blood Roses
Summary: His eyes lay on the lifeless eyes of the dolls in front of him. Forever open eyes, watching the world around him. The dolls which are swarmed with flies and maggots, peeling away the skin. And there are the voices, the voices asking for his name.


Little innocent child, with whom the sun adores, have you a name?

A name?

Yes. For there is no such thing as a you without a name. It is who you are; it is all that is you. Without a name, you do not exist. So dear child, have you a name?

Yes.

* * *

A grotesque, stomach churning odor fills the room. 

Hard to breathe. Hard to think.

But still the child sits, ignoring the smell…Or does he just not know it is there?

His eyes lay on the lifeless eyes of the dolls in front of him. Forever open eyes, watching the world around him…Forever seeing…The dolls which are swarmed with flies and maggots, peeling away the skin.

He stares in their eyes, voices surrounding him.

"_You will betray our memory, little demon child."_

He's just a child, and so he doesn't understand the words. Doesn't understand what he was being told…These dolls in front of them, the ones which resemble people who were very important…So very important. He could barely remember.

So now the boy just sits and looks into his dolls glassy eyes. The eyes which have become so dull, losing all their shine…

* * *

Why do you watch them, child? Do you wait for them to move? 

I suppose not, a doll does not move.

You are right. That is what they are now, dolls with no name. And you child?

Me?

What is your name?

……My name?

Yes, your name. For anyone who is truly alive has a name. Or have you become a doll as well?

* * *

The worms slide around and through his fingers, some being crushed, some safely returning to the ground. 

He is covered in blood and dirt. Little scrapes and bruises covering his hands, his fingernails breaking painfully as they hit little rocks and sharp pebbles which guard the way.

Lifeless bodies lie around him, the red pulsing liquid seeping into the earth.

Dead weight beneath the child's bleeding, dirty, small hands. Yet he pulls and pushes, and throws the dirt back over their faces.

And then there are the dolls.

Beautiful dolls which stare at him with lifeless dull eyes. He has covered their faces, burying them deep in the ground. If he shuts his eyes hard enough he can see the dirt consume them, the tiny insects beginning to eat their prey…

Those lifeless eyes cannot stare at him as they once did…

"_Live child, live."_

When the man's shadow looms over the tiny form which stood in front of three heavy, ugly, rocks, the child knew he would do as he was told.

Yet…faintly…he remembers…

A flash of maggots slithering through a pair of eyes came to mind…

And so the through disappeared.

* * *

Do you truly wish to learn how to control and cause death? 

I don't have a choice.

Everyone has a choice, child.

I must do as I am told.

Do not forget past warnings child. For it is not the shadow that will taint you. The sun creates the shadows; it is the darkness one must fear.

Fear?

Yes, everyone fears something…Except, of course, for one who has no name. For they feel nothing, just lifeless dolls with glass eyes. Do you have a name child?

Yes, it is a new name…But it is a name.

* * *

He holds the weapon of death, which drips the life of the body which lay before him. 

Those eyes stare up at him, lifeless…Dull. A broken toy which is left to be cleaned up.

He looks long and hard, engraving the memory in his mind...Or does he just not register it at all?

"_Is to live, to destroy life as well?"_

Turn away, no second glance.

No mark, not a stain, never, not on him…

Except for the liquid which trickles down his cheek, burning, scaring…

"_Demon child! You have betrayed us!"_

From the corner of his eye, he sees a big furry fly go past.

* * *

Dolls do not bleed. 

No, they do not…But I am not a doll.

Yes you are, one who has no name cannot truly be alive, and so cannot truly bleed.

I bleed.

True, this means that you must have a name. What is your name, child?

Whatever they tell me it is.

* * *

Red snow surrounds him and this beautiful creature, this angel, which lay in his arm. It covers him as well as her. 

The liquid which flows from his face is both clear and red, water and blood. It seeps into his cheek, X, the letter of death.

It is engraved in his heart, which slows as he tries to look inside her eyes. Those eyes which have been shielded from him.

Silence is all around him, no words to penetrate this shield which she seemed to create. Nothing to eat and tear at her flesh (for he would make sure of this, fire seemed to be the only solution).

He carries the weapon of death, the weapon which drips with her life.

This woman, who cannot possibly be a doll. For what is a doll without its glass eyes?

* * *

The woman had a name. She was not a doll, although cold she may have been. She was not like you. 

Like me?

Yes, her eyes were filled with desires which were both confused and planned at once. But you, your eyes are empty.

Empty…Am I truly void?

Perhaps…It all depends, have you a name child?

A name?

Yes, a name. For one with no name has no meaning in life. They are dolls, void of all emotion. But you child, have you a name?

…No…It has been eaten by the maggots and flies and termites and ants that always follow behind me.

* * *

He is covered in blood that only he can see. Blood that will never wash away, always sticking to him like the countless glass eyes that forever watch him in his sleep. 

He holds a weapon of death, disguised as an instrument of life. The weapon which is the only thing that has not yet been stained with blood.

He walks through the streets and watches the living, their eyes filled with emotion and he smiles. The smile is a thin layer of emotion which he has created, one which makes him feel more human.

One he hopes brings him a step away from what he is…A void.

One of the many dolls and broken toys which have been eaten by the flesh eating insects which follow him forever through his travels.

* * *

A doll does not care what happens to the living. A doll is void of all emotion, they do not feel. 

But…I wish to help others…To try and fix the many broken toys and lifeless dolls which lay deep in the earth beneath my feet.

This, I'm afraid is impossible. For something that is truly broken can never be fixed.

I know this. It is because of this that I wish to save them before they become the truly broken. Before they join the many which lay in the dirt at my feet.

Have you a name?

A name?

Yes. For there is no such thing as a you without a name. It is who you are; it is all that is you. Without a name, you do not exist. Have you a name?

I once did…But it has been long forgotten.

Then, one without a name, what are you?

I do not know, but to find out if my eyes are glass or if they are real…I am sure I will find the answer.

A/N: Um…yea…I know what I wanted these things to symbolize but I'm debating if I should explain. If anyone needs me to please tell me and I'll respond your reviews with the answers.

One thing though, this isn't meant to be a real "wow this happened!" thing. So I don't want people saying "well, I don't think Kenshin actually heard voices", or yadda yadda…It's meant to be symbolic.

Kudos to my boyfriend for the title! He's not into this stuff so I gave him the words name, dolls, glass, maggots, and insects and he managed to come up with this...I thought that was pretty amazing.

Please, Review!


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